


The Prince and the Imposter

by xRYDERx



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, F/F, F/M, Homosexuality, Kinda steampunkish, Lies, M/M, Minor Character Death, Mistaken Identity, Off-screen Character Death, Off-screen Relationship(s), Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-29
Updated: 2013-06-30
Packaged: 2017-12-16 13:28:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/862545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xRYDERx/pseuds/xRYDERx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dirk Strider, the newly appointed crowned Prince of Derse, grows weary of his position. He wishes, just once, for something exciting to happen during his rule. That's when Prospit steps in, proposing an alliance between the two kingdoms, and the Heir of Breath presents himself.</p><p>....:::....:::....</p><p>Jake English has been standing in for the Heir to Prospits throne for years. Though the true Heir may be guiding him along the way his title, originally that of a Page, weighs heavy on his heart. He's torn between the life of a servant and that of a ruler. The Bard suggests he find a way to balance both, to find inner peace, but that's a little difficult when he has to make the trip to Derse and a bored, entitled Prince decides to follow his every move.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Prince Ascends

==> Be the noble prince.

Noble? You scoff at the thought as the coronation finally ends. Theres applauding but you ignore the roar of praise from the royal court and your subjects. Familiar faces stare back up at you from the ground below the balcony. You wave at them, remembering to smile like your Witch instructed.

The iron crown feels heavy, which you suppose it should, but it's uncomfortable and you have to resist the urge to scratch or fix your hair.

As per instruction, you retreat back into the grand throne room adorned in lavish lavender silk hanging from the walls and pillars. The Witch signals for you to lower your hand, thank god because that bitch was starting to ache. There's a trail of flower petals, white and different shades of violet, left behind by the Maid and the Rogue who follow you back to the golden throne with their baskets, laying down a thicker trail.

Standing before your throne you adjust the cape that follows after you beneath the watchful eyes of the court. They all bow or curtsy, soldiers either on the sidelines saluting or dropping to kneel in the front row.  You find the thought of kneeling ludicrous. You never once kneeled before your predecessor before her "abdication" and you wish you could tell them not to but apparently that isn't how things are done.

After a moment of what is supposed to be "basking in your victory" you take a seat upon the throne.

You have now been officially sworn in as Dirk Strider, Protector of Derse, Prince of Heart.


	2. The Heir and the Imposter

==> Be the Imposter Heir

 

Well of course, there's nothing else you're good for. The door to your chambers creaks open after a familiarly patterned sequence of knocks. The true Heir, or rather the Knight's Page, enters with a tray of food. He shuts the door behind him and beams happily up at you.  
You're already awake, pouring over documents when he approaches your-his-desk. You return the smile, albeit a little less brightly. "Good morning, sire," you greet him.

 

"Come on Jake," the Heir whines, his dark brows furrowing a bit as he places the tray before you.  "I told you, you can just call me John."

 

"Yes, I know. But even after all these years it still feels wrong," you reply.

 

After the first born child of the great King passed away mere minutes after his first breath you were taken in by His Excellency to replace him until another heir could be conceived. You were four by the time that happened and many assassinations had been ordered on your life. The news never spread outside of a small and loyal group so the King had no doubt the Condesce thought you the true Heir. After his birth, John was taken into the servants quarters to be raised by The Dolorosa and was eventually titled the Knight's Page. His Majesty informed you both at a young age of your true positions, shortly after the Dolorosa was murdered. Sir Vantas, Prospit's greatest Knight and John's instructor, was then made privy to his new role as your personal body guard. That way he would be near both of you. Jade Harley the Witch of Space and Jane Crocker the Maid of Life were also close by at all times, though Jade being your niece and Jane not deemed worthy were not amongst those in the know. The Makara family, who posed as Bards and moonlighted as Shadows volunteered their youngest, Gamzee, to remain in the palace at all times.

 

The King died almost a year ago, leaving you with the responsibility to teach John everything you know about the laws and politics of running the kingdom. It's been quite difficult but John has been eager to learn and a quick study. In just a few months he will reach his fifteenth birthday and you will step down from this unmitigated facade. It is a relief but at the same time a mystery. You know not where this will put you and you're afraid to ask anyone.

 

John takes a seat across from you, a slight frown set to his lips. He asks, "can I tell you something?"

 

"Of course, John," you emphasize his name and John slips into a small smile. "You know you can tell me anything."

 

"Well, I know I make a good show of not being phased by anything..." he trails off and fidgets with the hem of his brown tunic. "But I'm worried about taking the throne. I have to, I know, but I've never had to deal with the responsibility like you have. I just don't know where I stand. What if the people don't think I'm good enough? What if I'm forced to retire the crown!?"

 

John begins working himself up into a frenzy of what if's and possibilities. He's so busy freaking out he doesn't notice your growing grin. He continues on, standing and pacing, for a minute more before your laughter cuts through his worries.

 

"I apologize, John. Truly I do not mean to laugh," you say between breaths. "I just hadn't realized we'd been pondering the same scenarios."

 

"You think the people will hate me too?" John gasps.

 

"No no, the complete opposit actually," you reply after calming yourself. "They will love you, John, because you will know how to care for them. You've lived as they do. You've seen what they've gone through. The mere thought that you wouldn't make a great ruler is the farthest thing from my mind."

 

John seems genuinely pleased with your statement and he smiles again, wider this time. It's the same smile he had when he met you for the first time. It's the smile he lets shine through when he knows something will work out for sure. You grin fondly back at him and return to the bills on your-John's-desk.

 

"So if you weren't concerned about me..." John cuts himself off, eyeing you suspiciously. "What is it? The treaty? Though I don't see how that's similar. Hmm..."

 

"It is indeed the treaty," you lie through your teeth. Guilt weighs heavily in your chest but it's for John's own good he doesn't know what's really troubling you. He is the true heir to the thrown. He has enough to worry about. "Honestly, I'm a bit worried about having to lie to an entire kingdom."

 

"Well Prospit and Derse have never had a problem with one another. I think we'll be fine," John assures you with a nod. He removes an apple from your tray and bites into it. "I am kind of worried about that Prince of Heart though."

 

You dont even pull your nose out of a particularly thick binding of documents to ask why. John simply continues on his own while you take a grape and chew on it.

 

"I hear he's unpredictable. They say he hides his eyes behind these big, goofy shades and you never know what he's thinking. You think he'll deny the peace treaty or something? Try to kill you then and there and just snatch up Prospit for himself?" John doesn't seem to notice you flinch and stare at him incredulously as he rants on. "Isn't that how he got to the throne in the first place? He killed the Queen or something?"

 

"My goodness, John. Wherever did you hear such nonsense?" you demand, voice pitched an octave higher than you mean for it to be.

 

He shuffles his feet, looking up at you guiltily and answers, "Ambassador Captor?"

 

"Ahh, Sollux. The Mage sure does love to spin his tales."

 

"So it's not true?" John seems a bit disheartened by it all. 

 

"Not all of it, no," you reply. "It's true that the Prince killed the Condesce, but she was a wicked ruler, John. She waged war against Prospit many times, sending spies and assassins to do her dirty work."

 

John swallows his bit of apple wearily and nods for you to continue. He really should pay attention during his history classes.

 

"You see, before the Codesension was in power another family ruled over Derse. Your father often told me how Lord Strider was an excellent King. He was very kind and understanding. I met him once I believe. I was very young though and I don't remember much. However," you pause to stand and make your way over to the large bed, reaching to pull back the golden sheets you'd recently fixed. Your fingers flex beneath the pillow on the right side of the bed where you sleep, and you make a grunt of triumph as they meet with heavy leather. There's a clank and you are soon pulling a dagger from it's hiding place. It is a foot in size, usually concealed beneath your clothes, and sheathed in fine, black leather. The iron blade, a trademark of Derse, is hilted in a comfortable black material with a chain hanging from it. A crescent moon, iron as well, dangles from the chain, making it evident to any none Dersite or blacksmith where it is from.

 

"Woah," John marvels. "Did he give that to you?"

 

Nodding you make your way back over to the desk, taking your seat and handing the dagger to John. He takes it, unsheathes it and proceeds to examine it with greedy eyes.

 

"Lord Strider gave me that as a birthday present. I was five, which means you were one. Actually, I suppose it rightfully belongs to you," you say softly, sadly. "It wouldn't be right of me to keep it."

 

John's eyes are on you in an instant, brows furrowed. He sheathes the dagger again and puts it on the desk between you both and stands.

 

"Jake, no. No way. Lord Strider gave it to you," he says, voice oddly even. "It may have been intended for John Egbert, but it was gifted to Jake English. I know you've always been insecure about our roles and all but I don't want anything from you, Jake. You're my cousin, my friend, and the last thing I want is to take something you cherish. And before you deny it, I know you do. There's signs of it being used, but it's been cared for, I can tell."

 

You've never seen John so angry at you. In fact, you've never seen John angry. Ever. You can't help but stare after him as he absconds, his long hood trailing behind him. He halts just before opening the door and you swear there's fire in his eyes when he turns to glower at you.

 

"You should probably take that to a blacksmith when we reach Derse. They'll know how to repair it better."

 

And with that he's gone, leaving you in silence.

 

You lower your head onto the desk, cheek cooling against ancient English oak. Pondering his words you realize you really need to give the Heir more credit. You've never believed him to be stupid, naive perhaps, but all the same it shouldn't surprise you how aware of your roles he is. You feel pretty stupid right now.

 

"Hey, stupid."

 

Your judgement has been confirmed. Red irises glare down at you.

 

"Sir Knight," you say through grinding teeth. "Karkat."

 

"My Lord," he leans over in a mock bow. "The trip will take three days in total. Are you prepared?"

 

"Yes," you answer, curtly.

 

"Good." he turns to leave but you stop him, glad he shut the door behind himself.

 

"A moment, Karkat?" he turns to regard you, usual scowl in place, and you proceed. "Keep a close eye on John during this trip, would you?"

 

"Tch, don't insult me, English," he growls. "I always keep an eye on my true Heir."

 

"You mean the true Heir," you tease. You've known for a while the Knight has had feelings for John. Not through your own observation, you're quite dense as it so happens. Jade had informed you a while back. You hadn't believed her at first but once you'd made it a point to prove the statement false you realized just how true it had been. "In any case, I'll keep the others close so just make it look like you're focused on me."

 

"Please, I do that every day of my life, peasant."

 

He leaves directly after that and you shake your head. You wonder if John has ever confessed to him how he feels for the Serket girl. Gossip was never your forte though, so you leave it to the Witch and the Seer to whisper amongst themselves. You can't help it if John and Jade tell you everything but you refuse to pass anything along.

 

An hour later the paperwork is finalized with the royal seal and a council member is there to put your hard work into action. Glancing at the grandfather clock outside your window you sigh in relief. There's only twenty minutes before your party departs for Derse. Thank goodness you'd packed the night before and triple checked everything before starting work on the last minute minor documents.

 

In three days you'd be in Derse, face-to-face with the son of your idol, making treaties for peace and alliance. In three months you'd be a simple citizen of Prospit.


End file.
